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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29023830">Reckless</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sillylittlewritings/pseuds/sillylittlewritings'>sillylittlewritings</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Big City, Small Stories [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Cooking, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Lesbian AU, cisgirl au, cooking accidents</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 14:15:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,811</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29023830</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sillylittlewritings/pseuds/sillylittlewritings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Adore and Bianca spend some time together. Of course, things go wrong.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adore Delano | Danny Noriega &amp; Bianca Del Rio</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Big City, Small Stories [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129226</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Reckless</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>helloo im back!!! :33 id like to the ChaoticNachoKitten for helping me out with this one!!! her ideas helped to completely change this fic and im so so glad for the help &lt;3&lt;3&lt;3 i wrote this as completely platonic, but if you wanna see anything in here as romantic be my guest!! </p>
<p>hope you enjoy! &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Adore loves hanging out with Bianca. Not only is she her best friend, but she’s the kind of person Adore thought would’ve </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated </span>
  </em>
  <span>her. But that’s not the case at all, there’s some sort of weird mutual respect and admiration going on between them, and it is fucking awesome. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The young musician knows she can be… a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot </span>
  </em>
  <span>sometimes, what with her natural hyperactive toddler personality type, and it amazes her Bianca puts up with her. Especially in moments where Adore knows she shouldn’t be bothering her friend, but decides to anyways because Bianca can be boring sometimes. Moments like this one. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore had a gig at one of the clubs, and it ran much later than she had originally anticipated, but that was mostly due to her wanting to stay for Bianca’s set too. Of course, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>led to them sharing a few too many drinks together while they stayed to watch some more performers. So when it came time for them to go home, Adore couldn’t find her keys.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>late. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Late enough there’s no guarantee Adore’s roommates will be up to let her back into the apartment. The singer immediately turns to her oldest, nearest, </span>
  <em>
    <span>dearest </span>
  </em>
  <span>friend. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my God,” Bianca sighs whilst massaging her temples, seeing the next ten hours play out clear as day in front of her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Pleaaase</span>
  </em>
  <span> can I stay at your place tonight Bia?” Adore asks, using her most pitiful voice and absolute poutiest facial expression. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They’re sat at a table in the back, Adore’s hands perched on Bianca’s knees as she essentially begs. Adore’s too drunk to care.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don’t you call someone to see if they’ll stay up for you?” Bianca retorts like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. To be fair, it probably is. Adore’s still too drunk to realize that though.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yeah,” she says, knowing she sounds like the world’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>dumbest </span>
  </em>
  <span>bitch. She fumbles with her phone for a few seconds, poking the screen and the on button for an embarrassing amount of time before turning to Bianca with another sad pouty face, “It’s dead.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course it’s fucking dead,” Bianca groans, playing it up like she really </span>
  <em>
    <span>does </span>
  </em>
  <span>mind Adore staying with her for the night. She doesn’t, she probably would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Adore is like the niece she never had, and she wouldn’t trade that girl for the world. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don’t I just call one of them on mine?” Bianca offers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adobe frowns, putting on her thinking face, “...I don’t remember their numbers.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can call Courtney,” Bianca reminds her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yeah!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A few minutes later, they discover they </span>
  <em>
    <span>cannot </span>
  </em>
  <span>call Courtney. They try calling her twice, and both times are a bust. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She glances down at Adore, and chuckles when she sees the “Bambi eyes”. Even if she weren’t planning on letting the kid stay with her, that would’ve done her in. She hasn’t met a single person that can resist those eyes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be quiet! I promise!” the singer whines. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bianca makes an exaggerated show of sighing and hemming and hawing, just to tease Adore, then cracks open a wide, amused smile, “Of course you can stay at my place, bitch.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Party!” Adore cheers, throwing her arms tightly around Bianca’s neck. It’s all the thanks Bianca needs. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They pay their bills, order a Lyft, and in more time than either would’ve preferred, they make it to Bianca’s huge ass apartment. The pair stumbles inside the building, trying to look as Not Drunk as they can, and failing miserably. It doesn’t matter anyways, it’s almost 3 a.m. meaning there’s not a soul alive there to watch them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bianca leads Adore to the elevator, even if it’s pointless because Adore randomly shows up at Bianca’s place at least three times a week. The singer grips Bianca’s hand tightly, giggling and stumbling while the comic practically barks at her to be quieter. They’re lucky it’s a Friday. Well, a Saturday now, Bianca supposes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The pair climbs up the one flight of stairs to Bianca’s apartment, and then into the apartment itself after Bianca spends a couple minutes fumbling with her keys. The door swings open, and they both fall onto the nearest couch.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They’re breathless with laughter, and then it starts up again when Bianca realizes she hasn’t closed her apartment door yet. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After she locks her apartment back up and turns on some lights, the older woman finds she can’t take her eyes off of Adore. The younger is smiling so freely, and it ignites something inside Bianca. She’s not sure what it is, maybe youthfulness, or freedom, but she loves it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“B! Oh my God! I have an idea!” Adore suddenly says, sitting up way too fast and clearly making herself dizzy.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t kill yourself, otherwise </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m </span>
  </em>
  <span>the one that has to call 911. You think I want paramedics at my house before the sunrises? Fuck no,” Bianca berates her, but she’s quick to recompose herself when Adore goes all pouty again, “What’s your idea? God knows you only come up with a good one every millennium.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore childishly sticks her tongue out at Bianca, “We should make waffles!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How the fuck are we supposed to make waffles? I’m not a cook, I don’t keep that shit in my house.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore screws up her face cutely, clearly trying to think of a solution to her waffle problem. She brightens up again after a minute, looking very proud of herself, “Alyssa! I bet Alyssa has it!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bianca rolls her eyes, “You really think I wanna speak to her right now? </span>
  <em>
    <span>At three in the goddamn morning?” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But </span>
  <em>
    <span>waffles!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Adore insists. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tomorrow,” Bianca promises, “Right now I want to get out of this clown costume and into bed.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore sighs, then tries her best puppy eyes again, “Cuddles?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re here, aren’t you?” Bianca snorts. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Adore smiles as bright as the sun, then at Bianca’s beckoning she follows her best friend down the hall so they can take off their makeup and get ready for bed. When they’re finally able to snuggle up in bed together, Adore in one of Bianca’s old shirts and pair of leggings, the whole apartment pitch black, and the only sound they could hear was the sound of each other’s breathing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s soothing and warm. They sleep like rocks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The sun wakes Adore up at </span>
  <em>
    <span>way too fucking early </span>
  </em>
  <span>though. Her head is pounding, her arm has fallen asleep from Bianca laying on it through the night, and she is really fucking hungry. Adore groans and gently pulls her arm out from under Bianca, then stumbles out of the way too big, way too soft bed to go find something to take care of her headache. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She’s quickly able to find where Bianca keeps those things (the mounted cabinet in the bathroom) because Adore used to spend a ridiculous amount of time at this apartment complaining about her ailments to Bianca, which of course lead Bianca to freely helping Adore out whenever. Bianca would act all cold and exasperated over it, but they both knew it was just a show. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore downs two of the pills dry and decides nearly immediately she should go find something to drink. In mere minutes she has a pot of coffee brewing, and simultaneously discovers that it’s only around 9 a.m.. Which is just overall… weird. Adore is almost never up this early, </span>
  <em>
    <span>especially</span>
  </em>
  <span> after the kind of night she had last night. The events of the night are still pretty fuzzy right now, but she still remembers everything. Mostly. She thinks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>One thing she </span>
  <em>
    <span>does </span>
  </em>
  <span>remember is a promise. A promise for waffles. Adore grins, an idea formulating in her head. Bianca is always so incredibly nice to her, helping her out and giving her whatever she wants. And sure, it’s not Mother’s Day, but that doesn’t mean Adore can’t show her appreciation for Bianca. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Clearly </span>
  </em>
  <span>the woman deserves breakfast in bed. Courtesy of a little help from a next-door neighbor (hopefully). The singer quickly grabs Bianca’s key off the counter and heads over to the one person she knows will have just what she wants. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore knocks on the door, and it’s only a minute later with an accompanied shout of ‘I’m comin’ hon!’ that the heavy white door is thrown open. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my goodness it’s Adore Delano!” Alyssa Edwards says excitedly, “Hello, doll!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi, Alyssa!” Adore smiles, “Um, I have a favor to ask of you?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~*~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bianca’s favorite way to wake up is slowly, with the sun streaming in through her bedroom window and having absolutely all the time in the world to get up, check her phone, and get ready for work. This morning is the exact fucking opposite. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>First thing that wakes her up is the motherfucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>fire alarm</span>
  </em>
  <span>, causing her to scramble out of bed at a record speed. Second thing, she’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>painfully </span>
  </em>
  <span>aware that Adore isn’t in the bed with her. Bianca is halfway through screaming Adore’s name when she bursts out into the main room. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The main room is smokey as all hell. Adore is aiming a fire extinguisher at the counter from the other side of the kitchen. The counter is covered in white foam. Her damn fire alarm won’t shut up. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bianca’s going to have a hard time explaining this one to the neighbors for sure. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The older woman breathes in slowly, but sharply, “Adore, what the fuck did you do?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore doesn’t say anything. She lets go of the fire extinguisher, and they both wince when it crashes against the kitchen tile. Not for the first time, Bianca is glad that she lives on the first floor. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The two stare at each other, Adore resting boneless against the oven, her expression just screaming shock. She lifts her head to meet Bianca’s eyes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pounding on the door, someone starts shouting, “BIANCA?! HOLY GOD, IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The woman in question is quick to open her apartment door, but instead of accepting the concern, she barks out, “What do you want?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The whole damn building knows your alarms are going off, Bianca!” Alyssa says sharply, shoving her way inside the apartment, “My girls are coming over in two hours! I can’t have my house burning down on me.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Bianca and Adore share a twin look of surprise. Alyssa’s always been Bianca’s favorite neighbor, that’s no secret, but this is a tightly concealed side of her that neither of them have ever really seen. It’s concern.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Worry.</span>
  </em>
  <span> But not for herself, for them. Even if it does come off as something else. This is just something not usually associated with her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Bianca says carefully, “What the fuck is going on.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s what I want to know,” Alyssa agrees, lips pursed skeptically, “Adore told me y’all were making waffles.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>It’s absurd. The fire alarm is still blaring. Adore has crushed herself into a nook, looking petrified. Bianca is </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>hungover and her most </span>
  <span>beloved</span>
  <span> annoying neighbor is standing in her house at </span>
  <em>
    <span>way too early</span>
  </em>
  <span> o’clock. </span>
  <span></span>
    <br/>
  
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Bianca suddenly realizes that even though there’s no fire, there’s still smoke in her apartment, and she really wants that alarm to shut the fuck up. Also, the smoke is going to stain her expensive shit if she doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>get it out. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She starts to open all the windows in the main room, and is grateful when Alyssa comes to help her. They make short work of it, and when she turns around to look at her best friend, she feels scared. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She’s scared that Adore might be hurt. She’s scared that she didn’t do anything to prevent this. But mostly she’s scared that something might be broken between them.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For the first time since walking in, Bianca notices bowls spread across her kitchen counter. Bowls and boxes and whisks… It clicks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Bianca exhales, “Alyssa, what the fuck did you just say about waffles?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Adore came to me a little while ago and asked me if I could lend you two some waffle ingredients,” Alyssa starts slowly, “And I think to myself, ‘Now Alyssa Edwards, as a woman of God it is your duty to love your neighbor and let her make some waffles on this beautiful morning-’”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alyssa, you let my dumbass kid do </span>
  <em>
    <span>WHAT?!</span>
  </em>
  <span> You fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>she can’t cook! We have had this conversation a hundred times!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, Adore said to me ‘Bianca and </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>not ‘I’m going to’! I thought you were gonna be helping her!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“WHY WOULD YOU ASSUME THAT? WHEN HAVE </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>EVER COOKED?!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry!” Adore snapped, her voice quivering and tears welling up in her eyes, causing Bianca and Alyssa to turn to her, “I’m so, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> sorry- I didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean</span>
  </em>
  <span> for this to happen! I just- I just wanted-” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bianca stares at Adore with shock, not fully comprehending everything happening. Between her hangover and the sheer chaos of the first fifteen minutes of being awake, she’s not entirely sure why Adore is so distressed. Adore starts whispering ‘I’m sorry’ over and over to herself, hugging her knees tight to her chest, tears starting to crawl down her face, and it hits Bianca like a train. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alyssa...” Bianca says slowly, but she’s unable to tear her eyes away from Adore. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore’s blaming herself completely and totally. And it makes sense, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>the one that started the whole mess. But Biana can’t stand that look on Adore’s face. She’d much rather put the blame on Alyssa (who can more than handle it) instead of Adore (who is currently having a nervous breakdown).</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But Adore isn’t having it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, this is my fault. I’m not- I’m not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>stupid, Bianca. I’m not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>useless, either. I’m not a kid. I’m not someone you should leave supervision for. I’m fucking twenty-</span>
  <em>
    <span>four. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Stop treating me like I’m not,” Adore’s words are cold, but her face tells Bianca the musician is falling apart, “Look me in the eye, Bianca.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She does. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yell at me,” Adore says. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She can’t. Bianca doesn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to. She feels like she failed her, because Adore isn’t her kid but </span>
  <em>
    <span>God </span>
  </em>
  <span>does it feel like it sometimes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll replace your stuff, Alyssa,” is what Bianca says instead. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Luckily, the woman accepts that as her cue to go. She gives Bianca a hug and a kiss on the cheek before she leaves, and sends air kisses Adore’s way. Adore gives Alyssa a weak smile. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The door closes. Bianca and Adore lock eyes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What the hell were you thinking?” Bianca says. It’s a tired, worried voice. Not at all what Adore was expecting, or even wanted. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> “I wanted to surprise you,” Adore answers simply, arms crossed defensively over her chest, “You do so much for me. For </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And I know you said last night we’d do it together but I just… I wanted to do something for you.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That alone melt’s Bianca’s heart. It’s been getting easier and easier lately for Adore, and by extension, the rest of their friends, to do that. For a while she thought moving to this city was stupid, and probably the worst decision of her life. But even now, after such a chaotic fucking twenty-five minutes of being awake, Bianca is so happy she’s here. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Next time, buy me something online,” Bianca says, warm and forgiving, instead of cold and biting like Adore would’ve expected.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The younger practically runs into Bianca’s open arms. The embrace is full of love, and Adore feels that it’s okay. She still blames herself, she’s still stupidly upset, but Bianca… Bianca makes her feel like everything will be okay. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They sit there hugging for a few minutes, then Bianca mutters, “Good thing you knew how to use that extinguisher, I think that's been hanging there for ten years.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore chuckles wetly, face buried into Bianca’s shoulder, “Yeah… Hey, shouldn’t have all the other alarms gone off too?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bianca freezes. Adore is right, all the other fire alarms in the building should’ve had people evacuating. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess the building needs to get that fixed, huh? Maybe you being a walking disaster is a good thing after all, if that had been real, everyone would’ve been </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucked</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow,” Adore whispers, “Maybe our building should get that checked too…? Oh my God. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh my God.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What?!” Bianca asks, pulling away from Adore to see what's wrong. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I never went home last night,” Adore says, “I never charged my phone. I never texted my roommates.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bianca suddenly doubles over laughing, fully bellied and absolutely batshit crazy, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Good, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Courtney doesn’t get </span>
  <em>
    <span>nearly </span>
  </em>
  <span>enough stress in her life!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore breaks out into a grin, and feels her worries start to melt away. Somehow, Bianca is really fucking good at doing that. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright,” Bianca sighs, looking at the pure mess that is now her kitchen, “Let’s charge our phones and order breakfast.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And they do. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Neither would’ve spent the hour following that disaster any other way. </span>
</p>
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